Chapter I - Expect the unexpectedA Chapter by Mason Red Stephen and his wife end up fighting, as expected. They know it's starting to take over their lives. What they don't know is that a big change is coming. CHAPTER I - EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED The day had not gone as Stephen expected it to go. “Could you, for once, not make a scene out of this?!” she
shouted at him without a glance. “Oh, now I’m the bad guy? Always! Can’t we just f*****g
talk about this? Blow off this ridiculous…” Stephen paused and thought about
the event ahead. “…party? If you can call it that,” he released an unintended
crack. “Stephen,” she turned around as they walked down the
driveway. “We’re going,” she took her moment there, digging deep into his soul,
trying to reach him. “Why would we, really? You want to sit through this
silent meeting of downers, getting offered a sausage the size of a peanut once
every half an hour while we could just stay home, open up a bottle of wine or
two and see what the night brings? That was all we needed once!” “They’re our friends. You can’t just back out of this
at the last minute. That’s what teenagers do. Not adults. We’re going,” she
turned away, throwing her blonde hair back at Stephen and opened the passenger
door of the black Volvo on the driveway. Stephen leaned back, looked up into the night’s sky,
and sighed. The blonde, was his wife. There were some gestures that made it
look like he was having some kind of desperate prayer, but the balled fists
gave away he was dead plain angry. It took him just a few seconds, but it was
enough for him to get his head straight enough to get into the car. He put the
keys into the ignition, started the engine and drove off the driveway while his
tires lost grip on the curb and he drove the car onto the road with a trail of
smoke behind him. “Would you watch it?!” she commented. “This is a
forty-thousand dollar car, you idiot!” “Yes, I know! I paid for it! And it’s meant for
driving, isn’t it? Well, that’s exactly
what I’m doing.” She didn’t say anything after that statement, to
Stephen’s secret pleasure. He wondered how they’d gotten there - gotten so deep
into trouble he would speak so aggressively to her, while they used to be so perfectly
together. He leaned back, dreamed away in the leather seat, getting lost in the
city’s lights and calm as the fight stalled. The fight, though, had all started on his account.
He’d been going at it for a good while now. It had been the third in a week’s
time. He was not happy - fed up even. He felt like a prisoner in a modern day’s
society. He wanted to be a rebel again, like he once had been with Ashlee, the
(now) blonde b***h. There was a time they both didn’t care about anything,
living only off of each other and two part-time jobs without any form of
responsibility. And he’d been happy. He looked to his right, to his wife sitting bend
towards the door, away from him. He looked at her waved hair that came to her
shoulders, obviously full of hair spray, jumping up and down as the car hit
small bumps in the road. There was a big rock the size of a bottle cap on her
finger. She was wearing a white open dress with glitters and a pair of matching
strapped heels. He couldn’t remember when she changed her way of dressing. It
must have fled by in time. He tried to imagine her as she once was - jeans and
tight sneakers, cotton and leather fabric, and even the wild hair that he would
never mind, even when she did. He was
struggling. The glitters were distracting him, her disguise getting the upper
hand. I should have never taken that job, he thought as he looked back at the road. Things would have been perfectly fine if I
hadn’t. They would have had nothing but each other. No distractions. No
excess. No custom. No nothing. The life they’d lived was small, but at least
exciting. He was aware that it would be impossible to live the old times again,
but he didn’t feel like she was his girl anymore - not even the slightest bit.
She turned around one-eighty for his worst and he was desperate for a small
hint from the old days. A sign. Anything at all, right here next to him.
Something that told him they would not be lost forever. “What happened to us, babe?” he finally asked as he
couldn’t acknowledge the silence anymore. Babe, he repeated the word in his head
briefly. It had been a long time… “We got lucky, that’s what happened,” she said softly. “Lucky? Nothing has been the same after we got ‘lucky’,”
Stephen tried to reach her. “Maybe that’s why we got lucky. Would you want to
raise a kid in the f*****g Valley? Me
bouncing my tits around for a fair share of tips at the bar, you wasting your
life away at that gas station that couldn’t even pay the rent? How is that
possible? Or even responsible? How
would that seem to you?” Silence ruled as Stephen thought about the ball she’d
passed back at him. “But we definitely were happier back then,” his voice grew
colder, like he was ready to give up. “Yes, we were…” she sighed. “But it would be a whole
lot easier if you wouldn’t be so uptight all the time. God! Seriously, Stephen,
we’re thirty-two years old now. Stop trying to chase that impossible dream of
yours!” “I’m not trying to chase some impossible dream, Ashlee.
I just want to see just a little bit of you back into my life, because it seems
like I’ve lost you completely!” “Oh, please… I’m still me, and you’re just so fed up
with yourself that you can’t even handle it.” Stephen tried to pay attention to the road as the
fight continued. She’s so impossible!
He screamed in his mind. It’s never going
to be the same after tonight. How could we ever be? He shielded himself
from his wife, trying to catch a break from it all and find comfort in the
city’s skyline up ahead, but it would all be in vain. “You know what?” Ashlee suddenly started, her gaze
avoiding his. “That baby we’ve always talked about?” She spoke softly. “It
isn’t going to get there. Because there is no way on this earth you will be
able to raise a kid, if you keep acting this way.” Stephen’s hands clamped hard to the steering wheel.
Sweat broke out. He didn’t know what happened but something had turned,
something snapped. His vision blurred. This string was not meant to be pulled - it sounded shrill and cold. And like a baby’s cry it drove him. Something red
flashed. He tried to get his mind straight. Get out of this vicious state of
mind for the both of them, but somehow it seemed impossible to do. “Now listen, I’ve no idea what’s gotten into you, but
this-” Stephen’s face got caught in a bright. A horn blasted,
screaming through the glass and penetrating his ear. And time went slow. He
felt the blast of adrenaline shoot throughout his whole body. His heart ached,
his arms shrieked and felt like they could lift a pick-up truck, but there was
no stopping this one driving straight at him just feet away now. He didn’t know
how to react. How could he react? He was already there. Braking wouldn’t work.
Giving gas wouldn’t work. It was like looking destiny straight in the eyes. But then Ashlee caught his eye; she looked at him. And
there was the sign. The sign he had been waiting for. She wasn’t afraid, she
wasn’t the spoiled wife he’d known for the last couple of years. She wore jeans
again. Her hair was messed up. She wore her famous red lipstick. She hit him
with everything she got; just one glance was enough for him to know that
everything was going to be okay. And then there was a blast. © 2015 Mason RedAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
StatsAuthor
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
